


Sugared Raisins

by shittystorywriter



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, This Is STUPID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 22:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16251293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shittystorywriter/pseuds/shittystorywriter
Summary: If Kyle and Cartman were an elderly married couple





	Sugared Raisins

Kyle slowly pried his wrinkly eyelids open, sitting up slightly in his bed. He looked at the blinds and saw sunlight coming through. Another day of miraculously not having died yet. As he leaned over and pulled his legs over the bed, he felt the bones in his body crack. A surge of pain rolled down his arthritic back.

He groaned as he slowly put on his slippers and made his way towards the kitchen. They lived in a tiny apartment in a senior living village. It wasn't the best, but it beat living in a nursing home.

Kyle swore that if he ever got to the point where he needed to wear diapers, he'd shoot himself. Even if he broke his weak shakey hands trying to pull the trigger.

He was greeted with the sight of his elderly husband, whom he hated more and more over the years but never managed to divorce. Cartman seemed to defy biology by making it to this age despite remaining overweight his entire life and abusing drugs. Kyle was certain that this must have been a punishment from God on his own behalf.

Kyle limped towards the table with a gait, sitting down in the chair with a plunk. "Aghh..Jesus, my back!" he cried.

Cartman ignored him, intensely focused on sorting through a box of raisin bran cereal, pulling out all of the sugared raisins from the box and adding them to his cereal bowl. A sight which mortified Kyle.

"Why the fuck are you taking all the sugared raisins?!" he complained. "Those are the best part, asshole!"

"Duh. Hence why I'm picking them out," Cartman replied.

"Oh, fuuck you! I thought it seemed like there weren't many raisins in there! Every morning I go to pour a bowl and it's nothing but bran flakes!"

"Eehhh, fuck _you_! I'll do what I want!" Cartman huffed, continuing to sort through the cereal box.

"God, you make my life miserable! Can't even have any fucking sugar raisins in my fucking cereal! God damn bastard!" Kyle feebly picked up a salt shaker from the table and threw it at his husband.

"Agh! Fuck you Kahl, why did you have to wake up? Jesus Christ!" Cartman yelled. "Can't even have breakfast in peace. I'm _sooo_ sorry for eating a couple of sugary raisins."

"Your dick is a sugary raisin! Asshole!"

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Cartman looked confused.

"Well I wouldn't fuck a raisin so you figure it out!" Kyle huffed.

"Ey! I'm pretty sexy for being almost 90! Anyway, I'd buy more cereal but we're on a tight budget," Cartman sighed. "God forbid you don't have your medicine!"

"Weeell, maybe if you hadn't blown most of our savings away on crack, we wouldn't be so broke, and we'd be able to live somewhere nicer, you asss...hole!" Kyle gasped, feeling winded from arguing.

"Eyy, don't put all the blame on me, Jeeew. Remember how you just had to have that indoor basketball court? Shit burned a hole in our wallet," Cartman glared back at his half senile husband.

"I don't remember that at all!" Kyle retorted.

"Because your dumb Jew brain's gone to shit! You can't even remember yesterday!" Cartman yelled.

"Eh? What did you say, asswipe?" Kyle glared at him.

"You heard me!" Cartman retorted.

"No, I literally did not hear you. Can you repeat that?" Kyle shrugged, looking embarrassed.

Cartman sighed. "Ugh. Fuck this. Why hasn't one of us died yet? For fucks sake!"

"Because I made the mistake of never killing you!" Kyle rattled his feeble fist in the air. "Woulda been so easy too, but I always pussied out."

"Ey, fuck you! I should've smothered you in your sleep ages ago. Now my wrists are too weak to carry through with it."

"You know what! I shoulda let you die that one time when I found you laying on the floor, having a cocaine seizure!"

"See, you somehow always remember that, but you conveniently forget the time I had to drag your dumb ass outta the pool cause you were drunk as shit and almost drowned yourself."

"Oh yeah? What about the time that mafia man put a hit on you, and they came to our door and I had to convince him that you went away to the Isle of Antigua?! Then, they came back and tried to poison us both?!"

"That. Was. A. Movie." Cartman sputtered out, looking incredulously at Kyle.

"Was it?" Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"I think so. Eh, or maybe it really happened. God dammit, now I'm confused!"

"I'm confused why the hell I ever married you!" Kyle shouted back, in his very loud indoor speaking voice.

"Oh, here we go again! Always changing the subject!"

"What was the subject?!"

"Eh, I forget now," Cartman retorted.

"Fuck this shit, and fuck your fat wrinkly ass. I'm going back to bed." Kyle feebly made his way up and walked back to the bedroom.

Cartman sat at the table and smiled to himself. "He never did lose that spark.."


End file.
